


Silver Cosmetics

by Wander_Girl



Category: Lunar Chronicles - Marissa Meyer
Genre: F/M, Jacin Clay - Freeform, Queen Levana - Freeform, Winter Hayle Blackburn - Freeform
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-09-23
Updated: 2020-09-23
Packaged: 2021-03-07 17:34:57
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 935
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/26611522
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Wander_Girl/pseuds/Wander_Girl
Summary: Every year on her birthday, Levana would dress up Winter in gaudy silver make up to torment her. Winter had quite gotten used to it, but what Levana did this birthday was too much, even for her.
Relationships: Jacin Clay & Winter Hayle-Blackburn
Comments: 1
Kudos: 3





	Silver Cosmetics

_Silver_ lip-sticks, _silver_ eye-shadows, _silver_ nail-polish. _Oh_ , she was going to faint. Winter despised cosmetics, everyone in the court, most of all Levana, knew that. Which was not good for her. Winter had grown to realize that her step-mother was, in fact, very intelligent. That had led her to realize that any kind of information about Winter which Levana knew, can and _will_ be held in Levana’s favour. So, this was just one of the many instances which proved her theory.

It was Levana’s birthday. So, of course she was going to celebrate it with the best company in the best way. And, to Winter, it seemed that the best way for Levana to celebrate her birthday is to torture her.

Hence, she was _forced_ to wear make-up. Levana did not want her beloved guests to see the truth, so she had provided all the cosmetics in Winter’s favourite colour: silver.

But that was not true anymore. Silver _was_ Winter’s favourite colour. After years of making her wear silver cosmetics in quantities that she couldn’t feel her skin anymore, she had started to hate silver colour.

Winter only liked to highlight her beauty with a few jewelleries on celebratory events, like such. Since she would not wear glamour, her step-mother would every year force her to wear silver-coloured cosmetics, ‘trying’ to make her look more beautiful than she already was. But the saying ‘too much of anything is bad’ fit perfectly here.

Too much of make-up is bad.

So, after the servants had finished painting her face silver, they bowed and exited her chambers. These were the kind of moments Winter was glad there were no more mirrors left on Luna. Because something told her she would have puked if she saw her reflection every year on this event.

She was given a silver dress to wear to the party, as usual. She changed her clothes and, wearing her silver sandals, exited her room.

Her guards followed her at a respectable distance as she headed towards the throne room. Oh, how she wished Jacin was with her. But soon, she dismissed the thought, because she would never want Jacin to look at her in such a state.

She stood on the throne room’s entry and all the eyes turned towards her. This had happened so many times. And every time, she felt nervous. Nauseated. Suffocated.

She took a deep breath and entered the room. Winter gave everyone her best smile and walked to stand beside her step-mother. Soon, everyone had snapped out of their haze and was bowing.

Though Levana didn’t show it, Winter very well knew how delighted she was to see her in such a miserable state. All Winter wanted to do now was to wash her face and run back to her chambers. But if she did so…she couldn’t muster the strength to even _think_ of the consequences.

She roamed the room for a while, relieved that no one approached her for small talk. This year, the celebration felt even more suffocating. She was so tired of this. If Levana loathed Winter so much, why does she allow her to come to the celebrations?

Everything which was coloured silver gave her a headache. Silver cutlery, silver glasses, silver coloured drinks. When she couldn’t bear it anymore, she peered down to see people gathered near the lake.

Though she wanted to go to someplace where she could find solicitude, she knew she could not do that. So she headed downstairs and sat near a fountain, which was the most secluded place she could find, and looked at anything but the drunken guests.

She turned to dip her hand in the fountain’s water but she had forgotten that water gives reflection, too. And what a horrible reflection of hers stared up at her!

There were _layers_ of shining silver eye shadow and gaudy sequined silver lipstick on her face, and even the ends of her hair had been coloured with silver glitter.

But that was not what horrified her. It was what had been done on her facial skin. Her _scars_ , they had been coated with layers of metallic silver, making them the most noticeable thing about her.

A scream escaped her and she ran towards her chambers, crying. Her guards followed, sprinting. At that moment, she didn’t care about the staring guests, her step-mother or the consequences.

How could someone be so cruel? She closed her chambers’ doors and ran to the bathroom. Crying, she splashed water all over her face and hair, spending more time on her scars. She collapsed on her bed and cried and cried and cried for what felt like hours.

Finally, when she was exhausted, she fell asleep and in her dream, the events of the night repeated themselves. She woke up covered in sweat and gasping for breath. When she realized that it wasn’t only a dream, she broke into sobs again.

“Hey, hey, hey.” A soft voice came from beside her. _Jacin_ , “It’s over, it’s over.”

She turned to see him sitting beside her on the bed. She hugged him and, resting her head on his chest, cried.

“She—my scars—”

“I know.” He cut her in between, “But it’s over.”

“No, it isn’t,” she wailed, “It will happen again, for many more years. Every year.”

He stroked her hair and made her sit upright, wiping away her tears.

Jacin was quiet because even he didn’t know how to reply to this. After some time, he continued stroking her hair.

“I am right here Winter, let it all out.” He whispered soothingly in her ear.


End file.
